


Trial and Error

by FutureEudaimonia



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hugs, Jisung goes through hardships, Just hapiness and comfort in the end, M/M, Reunions, but it's all good, chan is just mentioned, soft hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:15:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27991368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FutureEudaimonia/pseuds/FutureEudaimonia
Summary: Jisung and Minho fought a week a ago. Since then, Minho doesn't know where the boy is and is scared to death (and also very guilty).Until he comes back.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49





	Trial and Error

**Author's Note:**

  * For [belgiankpopper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/belgiankpopper/gifts).



“But what if I go away, uh ? He can’t take care of himself ! He won’t stand a week if I’m not there.”

“Goodness Jisung you can’t think like that ! You don’t even have to care for him ! That’s not your responsibility !” 

He shouldn’t have yelled, he knows it the second the words leave his mouth. He can see tears welling up in Jisung’s eyes.

“Well maybe some of us can’t afford to think like you !” The boy screams accusingly, louder. “Just because you’re capable of abandoning people, doesn’t mean everybody can do that too.”

Oh. Oh, that hurts, Minho thinks. He stands there, unable to move, as a thousand emotions pass through him, a thousand he sees on Jisung’s face. They both went too far.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His heart jumps as he opens the door and steps inside the apartment. Damp clothes are hanging on the back of chairs, brought closer to the fire. A tiny, shivering figure is curled up in front of the wood burner, like a cat on a carpet. Minho smiles as he recognizes the bush of messy brown hairs, all his concerns fading away. Jisung is sleeping there, his back expanding as he breathes softly. For a moment, Minho can only watch, his stomach twisting in unknown ways.

Then, slowly, ever so carefully, he gets out of his boots and approaches. He feels immediately grateful for the still burning fireplace, for the boy would be frozen without it. He’s laying in his woven shirt and pants, barefoot, his hands hidden in the long sleeves, like white paws brought up to his face. Minho crouches down, extending his fingers to the hair hiding the sleepy features, gently brushing them away.

Oh, how peaceful he looks. He’s adorable, like that, mouth half open, eyelids so relaxed they could flutter open anytime. He’s cute, Minho thinks, and he nibbles at his lower lip at the thought, frowning his brows.

He also got worryingly thinner, and Minho can’t help but to draw in a sharp breath. How much time passed since he last saw him? He thought Jisung would have been staying at a friend’s, or even - he hates the idea - at home, and it really doesn’t look like it now. The pants are used and scratched at the knees, the visible skin there red and bruised. A feeling of guilt sinks in Minho’ stomach. He suddenly feels heavy.

“Let’s get you comfy.” He whispers, sliding his arms under Jisung’s knees and shoulders.

The boy is compliant even in his sleep, cradling in the inviting arms as he’s lifted up. Minho takes a second to adjust the added weight, mildly concerned about how feathery it feels, as he sits in the reading nook, setting the brown-haired boy on the couch, unfolding the spare blanket over Jisung as he’s curling up again against him.

Minho chuckles quietly. They look like a bundle now.

In an instant, it all hits him. How long it’s been. How worried he was. The despair he felt even just this morning. His hands start to shake, and he tries to get himself together by softly moving his fingers through the boy’s hair. The guilt is awkward to go through tonight. He can see now that Jisung’s time away from the apartment wasn’t physically pleasant. It took a toll on the young body, dark circles under his eyes, bones showing a bit more.

There’s something obviously frail about him now. And even if Minho’ heart is strongly set on protecting him, it makes him sick to think he was the one responsible for Jisung to need to be protected at all. Especially since the boy values his independence so much. Even more so since that was the very thing that got them apart two weeks ago.

“I’m sorry.” Jisung says under his breath after some time, making Minho jump. “Really.”

And he really is, Minho thinks. He’s wearing that look on his face, ghastly and sombre. Minho’s heart aches hearing that damn look when he hears his voice, making every word hollow, as if every substance were leaving him, as if Jisung would vanish the second Minho looked away. So, he does not. He’s definitely staring, and for a moment he thinks it might be weird, although he feels nothing but genuine forgiveness.

“There’s no need for you to apologise,” Minho says. “Not on my end at least.”

“On mine then. Because I do feel sorry.” The whisper is barely audible.

“I know you are, Jisung.” His voice is soft, steady. “You’ve been forgiven a long time ago.”

Jisung looks up, his gaze almost painful, disbelief soaking his features. He opens his mouth ever so slightly, as if going to bluntly refute the statement. Instead, a sharp breath is drawn in, carrying the words away. Minho wonders how he can be so convinced that not only he’s the only one at fault, but that he wouldn’t be forgiven either.

“And you were right” He ignores Jisung’s expression of disillusion and his own twisting stomach. “Harsh, but right. It wasn’t my place to lecture you, or to push it so far.”

“You were trying to help. I knew you were, and I knew you were sensible about that, and I still said… what I said. And it wasn’t true, and I didn’t mean it.”

“That wasn’t helpful. It’s your own thing to go through, in your own way, and at your own pace. Yelling on how I think it should be done isn’t going to make it easier. And it’s unfair. I still stand by my opinion, but I shouldn’t force it upon you.” He makes sure to hold his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

A weight seems to lift from Jisung’s shoulders. The shaky tension he was feeling vanishes, replaced by an impression of safety. They will be just fine, he thinks. Both of them. An urge makes its way up his heart and he pushes himself up to turn to the older boy, carefully wrapping himself around his stern frame, face nuzzling his neck. Before he can overthink the gesture, an arm sneaks out of the embrace to bring him closer and a chin rests on his forehead. The fire is cracking contentedly, and rain is softly hitting the windows of the reading nook, forming patterns in the silence. It feels nice, there.

“Stay like this for a little, please.”

Minho brushes a kiss on his forehead. It feels right to do so. What all of this means, he is not sure. Maybe he doesn’t mind. Despite his confusion and fear, he wants to keep this hazy feeling of warmth too. For now, perhaps, they can allow themselves to delve in that comfort. 

After a while, Minho almost believes he fell asleep, but Jisung inhales, searching for words. And Minho tries to make him feel that he’s listening, patiently, giving him as much time as he needs.

“Turns out, you were right too.” He admits, slowly. “I quickly realized I didn’t really want to go there. I still went. To prove my point, probably. Not like I had any other place, too. I really didn’t see myself asking for Channie’s help on something like that, he has enough going on these days. Anyway. It didn’t go well. It never goes well, really, but then I just felt… That maybe what you said made some sense.”

Under his arms, Minho tenses at the idea of what could have happened. But also feels some satisfaction, not over being right or Jisung realising it, but over the fact that his poor words and yelling might have not been a complete failure.

“So, I decided to leave for good.”

Minho just hugs him closer, burying his own face in the hair, oblivious to the smell. Because he can’t find the words to tell Jisung everything he wants to say. He ponders over words for a minute, and figures he just can’t pinpoint what he’s feeling. But he does have an idea of what it might be for Jisung right now. That week must have been hell, not seeing anyone, not going anywhere, taking that decision, and everything is still probably a mess for him, with no home to go to now. And although it’s better to not have that home anymore, it was still important to him. Memories and family, as bad as they can be, can feel precious when it’s all the certainty you knew all your life.  
It clicks, what he truly wants to say. The words find their way to his lips, and it just slips out of his mouth like a light stream of water.

“You can stay here.”

Jisung moves away, giving him a serious look.

“Minho, I don’t know how long it’ll take for me to have my own place. I don’t want to cause you trouble or to be a burden to you just out of pity. I don’t even have a real job yet, it’s not like I-”

“I don’t mean it as a short-time solution, Ji. This can be your home, if you want. I have a spare room anyways.” He tries his best to make his voice confident and warm. He’s so scared Jisung would say no, and annoyed he thinks he would let him stay outside just a second more. Annoyed Jisung thinks he’s not welcome here. Invited, even. “I would love to have you here, really.”

There’s a silence as Jisung just stares into his eyes, as if searching for something. Minho sees him going through pride, doubt, hope. He seems to find what he needs as the boy sinks back in the embrace, murmuring a light, hardly perceptible thank you. Minho soothes him, caressing his hair slowly as their shoulders go down in mutual relief. 

And for a while, it’s just breathing, as they let themselves fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I guess I just really hope you'll like it ! I'm scared.


End file.
